non-conceptuality

Q Within the non-dual state, what happens with memories of things? Do you experience them?

R Why would you not experience memory in terms of the non-dual state?

Q Well . . . wouldn’t there be ‘memory’ and ‘consciousness of memory’?

R That is one possibility.

Q and . . . another possibility would be?

R One would not necessarily convert memory into a reference point, and be distracted by that.

Q Distracted . . . well yes, isn’t that what would happen?

R It is not compulsory. You see, basically . . . I would prefer to take you away from the idea that it is bad to think thoughts. There are various little problemettes which arise when we alternate between discussing the practice of meditation in terms of shi-nè and talking about what we do in everyday life – in which we’re looking at experiences which pertain to ‘result as the path’. Thought is a problem in terms of shi-nè – but ultimately there is nothing ‘wrong’ with thought. Thought is fine – it’s what we do with thought, it’s how we use thought that is problematic. Now, in the practice of shi-nè we abandon concept. We let go of concept in order to experience a non-conceptual state. But if in the final analysis we conclude that concept is bad, then we have an aspect of ourselves that we have to jettison.

Q And that is a dualistic construct?

R I would imagine so.

Q Because . . . there is good and bad?

R Yes. Because you would have to get rid of the ‘bad thing’. There is nothing wrong with the intellectual process. The only thing that is ‘wrong’ – is how we use it. We try to use intellect for everything. Intellect is fine in the sphere of intellect – it is merely that when we try to employ intellect for purposes other than cognition it becomes confused. Intellect does not exist in order to prove that ‘I’ exist. An enlightened being is not bereft of intellect. An enlightened being does not lose the capacity to think, conceptualise, or communicate in terms of concept. One does not become a lobotomised Buddha. One simply becomes non-referential with concept, in the same way as one allows the content of Mind to move without referential manipulation. I am referring to the phase called Lha-tong, in which we allow thought to arise and dissolve, and in which we allow ourselves to find awareness in the dimension of the movement of thought – in the dimension of the arising and dissolution of thought. There are also practices that go beyond that. Practices of jé-thob (rJes thob), integrating with activity. This is the post-meditational experience of standing up and making a cup of coffee (make mine an espresso), of mixing the experience of making the coffee with the non-dual state – with natural Being: with being which is not referentially manipulative of what is happening. We are not using anything that occurs or presents itself – as a reference point. As long as we are not using the thinking process as a means to prove our identity, then we can employ ‘thinking’. It is similar were we to discuss drinking alcohol. It is safe for some people to drink alcohol, but it may not be safe for other people to drink. Obviously if I am an alcoholic – it is risky. If I know that even one glass is liable to send me on a terrible bender and back into my life of alcoholism again – then I know it is dangerous. I know that I have to be aware of it. In that case it is better for me not to drink. So in the practice of meditation we treat thought in that way. We are letting it go. We are being conceptually abstemious – whilst we are practising. The idea of practice in this formal sense, can be rather artificial – because formal shi-nè is a tool. A chisel is fine whilst we are working with wood—when we are making a chair or cabinet—but when we have finished the work, we do not continue to use the chisel. If I continue to use the chisel after the work is concluded – what exactly is it that I am trying to achieve? We simply have to learn to desist from using that chisel at some point. We cannot always be playing with the chisel as if it were a child’s transitional object. We employ tools at the appropriate times and under the appropriate conditions. It is simply a matter of non-referentiality: with thought, with memory, with anything. Does that clear that up?

Q That means that you’re still dualistic then...

R What is the dualism?

Q That it’s not empty.

R No, it’s not empty – but emptiness is not necessarily non-dual. Duality is the on-going attempt to experience form as being separate from emptiness. The act of thinking is not necessarily splitting emptiness and form.

Q So . . . what is thought in the non-dual state?

R Thought simply becomes dance – an ornament of perception. You are not ‘thinking about things’ in relation to ‘some separate sense of yourself’ which is thinking about these ‘things’. You are being completely present with the energy of the free movement of whatever arises. If you think about things and have a concept of yourself as ‘the person who is doing that’, ‘the person who is engaged in that activity’ – then you take yourself out of the present. You put yourself on some sort of parallel plain which is removed from the present.

Q So . . . thinking just happens differently?

R ‘Thinking’ and ‘the thinker’ are not isolated events which look to each other for reassurance. It is not so easy to describe how thinking exists non-referentially when the general orientation to thought exists in an almost entirely referential perspective.

Q Right . . . It could be like trying to talk about the Earth not being flat.

R Quite so. Thinking and concept can simply exist as ornaments of the non-dual state – in which they are free of the artificial function in which they are goaded into providing proofs that we are solid, permanent, separate, continuous, and defined.

Q But when we live in a relative world . . .

R The ‘relative world’ does not stop when we enter the experience of ‘ultimate reality’. Ultimate and relative are indivisible in the same way that nirvana and samsara are indivisible. They are not separable – they are non-dual. We only speak of ‘the relative world’ from the point of view of dualistic perspective – the point of view of dualistic perspective which wishes to undermine itself. This is something that we can begin to taste as soon as we start experiencing the rising and falling of thoughts – as soon as we discover that we can ride with them. It is difficult to relate to that outside the experience of Lha-tong meditation. This is not really intellectually communicable – which is half the point I am making.

Q So with some of this material – we either understand it... or, we do not understand it. A certain amount of experience would have to be involved.

R Yes – and, without that experience, there is no way to understand the free manifestation of concept within the non-dual state. You could, possibly, follow the words; but if you are trying to relate to the words in terms of the dualistic constructs that describe conventional reality – then, as I said before, you are not going to be able to relate to it. If you were able to relate to it – you would have some taste of the state of non-duality and you would understand that state – at least with some initial vague intuitional feel. It is not even that you have to be totally in that state because... once you have had glimmerings of that state; then, you get a kind of excitement which develops when you hear explanations. That is what is known as transmission.

Q Yes. I remember occasions when I heard Lamas give profound teachings on the nature of mind. I have thought: That’s amazing! Then... I would go away and I think: What the hell was that about?

R That is not unusual – the position in which I would say: It got through at the time; and, I understood something. I was not quite sure what I understood but I understood something. That is familiar to me – as I had just those kind of experiences when I first went to India. I came to understand those things better later, but that was only after a great deal of practice – but some things, the more you wrestle with them the cloudier they get. Trying to understand the nature of Mind with intellect is ridiculously difficult.

Q You never get rid of plurality then – the duality of us being separate in some way.

R Buddhism is not a monistic path. Dharma does not suggest that we are dewdrops sliding into the shining sea. It is not that we become part of the cosmic jello. It is not that we disappear as separate entities. This would be suggested by the monist concept of non-duality, which is a view that is current in various schools of Hinduism. We are talking about a pluralistic non-duality. The Buddhist View is that ‘separateness’ and ‘non-separateness’ are non-dual – diversity arises from non-diversified emptiness.

Q Duality seems to base everything on the concept of a ‘centre of the universe’ which is ‘me’, and saying: There’s ‘me’, and there’s everything else which is ‘not me’.

R That is one of the versions of duality which is spoken of largely in Sutra – the ‘non-duality of not making judgements’, of not basing everything on ‘me’ or ‘not me’. It is not splitting reality in terms of ‘myself’ and ‘other’... into ‘I’ am ‘looking’ at ‘you’ – and splitting that into very separate areas. It is being immediate rather than stretching ‘now’ into ‘past’ and ‘future’. It is being where you are rather than attempting to be in more than one place at a time. It is being half in the now and half in either memory or projection. It is dividing ourselves in this way that is a problem – because we are both divided and non-divided. Dividedness and non-dividedness are ornaments of non-dual reality. It is much harder to comprehend than the simplistic monist construct; and it is far less comfortable because it does not appeal to the desire to make everything neat and tidy. This pluralistic non-duality is simply the sheer unimpeded quality of reality. You could call it unbounded spontaneity.

Q I have some friends who seem like being spontaneous; and they ask me sometimes why I need to concentrate so much on how everything is, instead of just getting on with things and doing things, and I think if one of them were sitting in this room hearing us talk about, you know, letting awareness ride on our experience, and this sort of thing, I mean that would be, to them, an extraordinarily complicated, sort of double-dualistic way of behaving – when they just simply do something... Is this because my friends are more enlightened than me, or am I misunderstanding the..?

R [laughs] I have met people who have been quite surprising in a lot of ways. I think people who just get on with things – who simply live life with verve and enthusiasm are much to be admired – especially if they are relaxed, care-free, kindly, generous, tolerant folk... I think that with a certain amount of narrowness you can get by... At the narrowed off end of the spectrum, it is easy because questions just do not occur. For a lot of people it remains easy until tragedy hits... and then... they are hit really hard. So sometimes people who don’t question too much, appear to be very worked-out... until... they come back home and find some horrendous thing happening in their living room [laughs]: their partner is making out with their best friend; their father’s been eaten alive by the goldfish; or their family get killed in an accident; or...

Q2 ...or there’s no baked beans in the fridge when you want them.

R Yah... really... life can get pretty tough sometimes [laughs]. It is difficult you know. I have noticed that. I have been quite surprised by people who have made this kind of comment before. I think that once you start questioning... your life can get amazingly complex. A lot of questions are generated from questioning... it can get more and more involved. If someone thinks that this is what practice is about then I am not surprised if their friends say: Well what a lot of nonsense that is! And sure, it is a terrible lot of nonsense if it is merely a complex structure.

Q When the point of a lot of these things is to concentrate on making things simpler.

R Simple . . . yes, as long as simple is not simplistic. It would seem that the beginning is simple. The end is certainly simple. But the middle... the middle is complex. We cannot ignore the muddle of the middle. In some sense, I do not really think it concerns ‘making’ anything either simple or complex. The heart of the teaching concerns itself with entering directly into the texture of what is actually there. Sometimes that is simple, and sometimes that is complex. That is why both simple and complex practices exist. We should not become fearful of complexity, or come to regard complexity as the Devil.